Girls Are a Different Sort of Different
by rumpelsnorcack
Summary: A series of conversations between Ginny and her mother. Goes through the major events of her life. Pairings as in canon, ending with Ginny/Harry.
1. Prologue

_A/N: I wrote this last year for the Ginny Big Bang fest, but it never ended up being posted. Now that the exclusivity period for the GBB is over I'm putting it up. Look for updates probably twice weekly, and for those who are interested, yes I am still working on GPaTBWL. It is a long, slow process at the moment what with real life and all. _

**Prologue: A Baby Girl.**

Molly was exhausted. You'd think after doing this five times before she would have got used to it, or at least that her body would be less tired after so many tries at it. But labour was still damn hard work and the final pushing stage always took it out of her. Even a witch, who could banish the pain, was still at the mercy of the sheer effort it took to get a baby out. She was so exhausted that she didn't even ask Arthur what sex the baby was, assuming that it would be a boy as usual. They had a name all ready for him, too. Gideon Fabian after her brothers.

'Molly.' Arthur's voice was tremulous, and Molly was snapped from her reverie, alerted by the oddness in his tone that something was wrong.

'What? Is he not well? Is something wrong?' Molly reached for the baby anxiously.

Arthur laughed, his shock already evaporated. 'Not at all, love. It's just ... it's a girl. We have a girl.' He said it in tones of wonder, as if he still couldn't quite believe what he was saying.

All tiredness sweeping out of her body in an instant, Molly gaped at him. She took the bundle from his arms gently and looked down into the tiny face.

'A baby girl? Really? Wow, that's ... that was ...'

'Unexpected,' agreed Arthur. 'Do we even have a girl's name?'

A sweet smile tracked onto Molly's face as she said, 'Yes. Ginevra. It was always going to be Ginevra.' She stared down at the tiny girl in her arms, still not quite accepting that the baby was a girl. She dragged her eyes back to Arthurs and smiled at the expression of joy she saw there. 'I've loved that name ever since I was a tiny girl and found my mother's romance novels.' A single tear leaked out of one eye as she finally accepted the fact that they had a baby girl. After generations of only producing boys, the Weasley family had a girl.

Hours later, as Molly rested in a room with the baby, she picked up the small pink-wrapped bundle , and snuggled her against her chest. The tiny girl stretched and let out a babyish whimper in her sleep. Molly smiled again. This, at least, was behaviour she could understand. Every one of her boys had whimpered in exactly that way as they got used to being alive. The faint terror she felt at the idea of raising a girl child dissipated under this normalcy. Molly rocked the small child, and began to whisper to her in the tones that had calmed each brother before her. The baby was so small, and vulnerable-looking that 'Ginevra' seemed too overwhelming a name for the tiny child. On impulse, Molly tested a shortened form. 'Ginny.' Yes, it felt right in her mouth.

'Ginny, my baby. You don't know how precious you are.' Molly broke off, still overwhelmed at how odd it felt to be addressing a baby girl, then gathered herself together and continued. 'I know that no matter what I do, the weight of generations of Weasley men will lay pressure on your head. First girl in Merlin knows how many years, you will always be watched.' And if Molly was entirely honest with herself, she knew she would have expectations too. Having a baby girl after so many boys opened so many vistas.

The tiny baby grimaced in her sleep, and grasped at the blanket covering her, with surprisingly strong fingers. Molly tried to pry the fluffy pink material out of Ginny's hands, but she clung tighter to the warmth. Molly smiled at her.

'Looks like you'll be strong enough to cope though, my girl.' Molly let out a chuckle. 'With a mother like yours, how could you be anything else? I'm sure you will face your share of trials while growing up with that bunch of brothers, but each of them is amazing and I'm sure each will help you grow to be the adult you are meant to become.'

Still gazing at the miracle in her arms, Molly drifted off into sleep. Of course, just as she found that oblivion she needed, the baby decided to wake up with a startled scream. Prying one eye open, Molly grimaced in her turn. It seemed that this baby was determined to be contrary. Hoping this wasn't a tiding for the future, Molly began attending to the baby's needs.


	2. Bedtime Stories

**Bedtime Stories.**

'No, you're not allowed.'

'Why not?'

'Cause you're a girl, stupid. Girls have to like _The Fountain of Fair Fortune_, they aren't allowed to like the _Hairy Heart_, 'cause that's a boy's story.'

Molly paused behind the doorway in the kitchen, anxious about this latest development from Ron, who had been fairly obnoxious about gender differences since the day he suddenly discovered that he was a boy and therefore different to his younger sibling. Molly wasn't worried that Ron felt that way, oh no. It was a rite of passage and showed he was growing up, bless him. All the other boys had been through this as well. No, what Molly was worried about was Ginny's reaction. At just-gone five, the little girl already had a will of iron, and Molly was concerned about how well the more sensitive Ron would cope when Ginny let loose on him.

'That is so ... so unfair! I can like what I want and you can't stop me!' Ginny's fists were balled and she was leaning forward aggressively. Ron was unperturbed.

'You're a girl!' he said stubbornly, 'and girls just can't like the Warlock.' His voice held all the certainty of a six year old, and he turned away from Ginny.

As he tried to leave the room, Ginny ran at him. She pulled her fist back and tried to punch Ron in the back. She missed and her momentum sent her flying past him. With a cocky grin, Ron carried on out of the room followed by Ginny's screams.

'They can! They CAN! Girls CAN! I'm going to like it if I want to!'

In the kitchen, Molly let out the breath she had been holding. It hadn't gone as badly as she had feared. Ron was still intact, and Ginny seemed to be coping the way she always did: by ignoring the boys' ideas and going her own way. Then she heard it. The sob. With the instinct of a mother, she flung herself around the door and tried to take Ginny in her arms. The small girl pushed her away and wiped a tear off her cheek with an angry swipe.

'I'm not doing it anymore.'

'Not doing what, love?' asked Molly, still trying to gather her daughter into her arms.

'Not being a girl, anymore.' Ginny retreated away from her mother and perched herself on a fat footstool in the corner of the room, and Molly felt a stab of dismay that she refused to allow her to give comfort. Still, at least Ginny wanted to talk, which she guessed was a step up from running from the room in a huff as usual. Molly sat down at an unthreatening distance.

'Why not, love?'

To be honest, Molly had been expecting this. Try as she might, she had been unable to keep her hopes and wishes for this precious girl out of the way she had dealt with the child. Ginny lived every day with the weight of being the youngest child in a large family, and with being 'the girl.' They couldn't help it, they coddled her. She was the last baby, the last one they could cuddle and care for and nurture. And ... and, she was the _girl_.

A fair amount of pink and frills had entered the house with Ginny's birth, and Molly had sworn it was just her way of 'getting it out of her system' while Ginny was young, too young to be able to have a say. Problem was, Molly had never really got it out of her system, and Ginny was almost always pushed into girly activities through Molly's expectations. Molly had, time and again, told herself to stop it, to let Ginny grow into her own person, but time and time again she had allowed herself the luxury of waiting 'just a little longer' before she gave up. But it seemed that, finally, the time had come for her to let go.

'Girls can't do anything fun, they have to stay inside and cook and be boring.'

'Ginny!' Molly was shocked out of her thoughts by Ginny's pronouncement. 'Where on earth did you get that idea? Girls don't have to do any of those things.'

'But you do them, Mum. You're a girl.' Ginny's eyes were bright with curiosity as she contemplated her mother.

'Yes, but ...' Molly tried to explain, suddenly anxious to ensure that Ginny didn't get the wrong impression from her own actions.

'And the boys play widdits. I want to play widdits, and why can't girls do that?'

Molly was floundering. Where had the girl got these ideas from? Surely she and Arthur hadn't done this? A twinge of guilt flooded through her as she realised that she really had coasted on this one, forgetting that Ginny was a different creature to her boys, and not just a surrogate on which to project her desperate desire for a daughter.

'Sweetheart, of course girls can play quidditch. Whoever said they couldn't?'

'Fred and George, and Ron.'

With a grimace that promised that some of her boys were going to hear from the rough side of her temper, Molly leaned forward and said in a conspiratorial whisper, 'boys just want you to think that, Ginny. They know we girls can beat them, you see.'

Ginny's mouth twitched upwards for a minuscule moment before returning to the scowl she had adopted at the start of the conversation.

'Doesn't matter. I still want to be a boy; boys have way more fun.'

Sighing internally, Molly took another tack. 'Honey, I heard Ron talking to you about stories. Is that what this is about? ... Do you want to talk about it?'

Ginny's eyes, which had previously bored into Molly's with a disconcerting strength, dropped to the floor and she twisted her hands together. Molly watched her, allowing her the space and time to say what she wanted to say.

'Mum, why do girls have to like the Fountain story? The Warlock story is more fun. There's more blood.' Ginny's voice was puzzled, and there was a hint of belligerence in the tilt of her chin as she said it.

Her mouth twisting again at the idea of her little girl being so bloodthirsty, Molly tackled this one. 'Well, sweetheart, you do know that the girl in the Warlock is pretty boring? She doesn't even have a name.'

'No she isn't. She's pretty and the Warlock loves her. And she dies, and there's blood. It's cool.' Ginny was flooded with enthusiasm as she enumerated all the reasons why the gory tale appealed to her.

Molly sighed and tried to explain why the story wasn't as romantic as Ginny saw it in her black and white mind. 'She tries to be nice and help someone, but he kills her. He doesn't love her, he hides from love.'

Ginny's face lit up as she discussed her ideas, dwelling in the romantic dream her mind had conjured up. 'But I want someone to love me like he does. It says in the story, he chooses her out of all the others because she's the best.'

Molly sighed as she looked at her daughter. It was hard to explain to such a young child that the story wasn't as it appeared on the surface. She tried a new tack. 'Yes, it does say that. But he doesn't love her, he only likes what other people think of her. He likes what she looks like to others, not her true self.' She smiled at Ginny, and said, 'If you want a story about real love then the Fountain is a good one.'

Ginny snorted, and said with the absolute conviction only a small child can muster, 'The Fountain? It's not about love, Mum. It's about stupid people who can't see the fountain isn't real.'

'No, Ginny,' Molly said, shocked that Ginny had taken such a twisted message from what had appeared to be an innocent childhood story. 'It's about finding your own happy ending inside yourself. Amata finds love, when she looks in the right place. And the others all learn to help themselves, too.'

Ginny was looking thoughtful. 'Well, I still like the warlock. Blood is way cooler than herbs and water.'

Molly chuckled, and said, 'OK, Ginny. And it's perfectly fine for girls to like blood.'

'And widdits?'

'Yes, and quidditch.'

'Mum?'

'Yes, dear?'

'Why do girls always do the cooking and the cleaning?' There was that disconcerting and direct stare again. With so many older brothers Ginny was precocious in many ways, and her questions were always challenging. Molly smiled at her; at least Ginny kept her on her toes at times like this.

'We don't, dear.'

'You do.' Ginny was relentless, wanting to get to the bottom of what it meant to be a girl.

'I know, but I chose to do that, love. I enjoy it. I get to look after all my children, and I love it, but if you don't want to do it, you don't have to. You can be a quidditch star, or an auror, or anything else you want to be.'

'But you make me help you clean up.'

Molly let out a deep, throaty laugh. 'My girl, you are not getting out of cleaning your room that easily. And the boys have to do all that too, you know that.'

'I guess. But ... I still don't like being the girl. Why can't I be a boy?'

'I don't know, love. I guess the world just has something big in store for you. Why else would you be the first Weasley girl in ages?'

Ginny smiled at her mother as they both moved off to other activities, but underneath she was worried. Even as a five year old, Ginny could feel the pressure heaping onto her head, even though she didn't really understand it yet. And here it was again, a sense of having to 'be something' because of what she was: the girl. Every week she was reminded of who she was: the first girl in generations. The Beedle the Bard stories were all very well, but they didn't really help you grow up to be 'yourself' when everyone expected that you would be 'someone.' Couldn't she just be Ginny Weasley, without having to be the special girl who had to live up to a hundred different expectations? And who was Ginny Weasley anyway? Everyone had a different idea; even Ginny herself had no idea which one she was.

Fifteen minutes later, Ginny had forgotten she had even had the conversation with her mother. She was too busy pretending to play quidditch at the bottom of the garden where the boys couldn't see her. The problem of just who got to decide who Ginny Weasley is, however, never really went away.


	3. Harry

**Harry**

Ginny didn't bother her mother with her identity crises again until the summer holidays of the year after Ron started school. That's not to say that between the ages of five and eleven Ginny had miraculously discovered who she was and how to be 'Ginny' in a family so filled with strong-minded boys. It was more that Ginny decided that she was strong enough to be herself without her mother's input. After all, Ginny had little desire to be the type of woman her mother was, so she saw no need to talk about it with her. The frills and daintiness her mother seemed to prefer in a girl just turned Ginny cold, even at the age of five or six when her mother had last tried to stuff her into a delicate dress for some ancient relative's birthday.

Today, however, desperation drove Ginny to her mother. Ron's return from Hogwarts hadn't been the joyous reunion she had expected, and Ginny needed to talk to someone about it. She lurked around the doorway to the kitchen, scuffing her feet and casting anxious looks towards her hard working mother. Molly pretended not to notice, having learnt in the past that pressing Ginny to talk was the one sure way to get her to clam up. Finally, Ginny spoke.

'Mum?'

'Yes, dear?' Molly kept her voice light and placid, inviting more confidences while she kept on with her tasks. She kept her back towards her daughter, allowing her to sidle into the room and perch on the bench without feeling pressured to talk.

For a few moments Ginny watched her mother directing her wand at the food she was preparing, the vegetables obediently slicing themselves under Molly's watchful eye. Suddenly she spoke. 'I thought it would be the same, Mum, when Ron got home. But it's not. He's different.'

'School does that to people, dear. They grow up.' Molly turned to her daughter and smiled at her. 'You'll find the same thing happens when you go to school next year.'

'But, Ron was my best friend, but now he doesn't want to know me.' There was a suspicious catch in Ginny's voice as she spoke.

'I know this is hard for you, Ginny, but you need to realise that he has his own friends now. You'll be going to school soon, and you'll find your own friends.' Her mother's voice was warm and caring. She knew how much Ginny had looked forward to Ron's return, and how devastating his seeming indifference must be. 'Soon enough you won't want Ron hanging around with you.'

Ginny shook her head, sure that would never be possible. Ron may be really annoying at times, but he was her friend, her rock when everyone else had left. She had missed him terribly when he himself had gone to school.

'I don't want my own friends. I want Ron's friends.' The words came out in a mutinous mutter, but Molly heard them clearly. She smiled to herself, careful to keep Ginny from seeing her amusement. Now they were getting to the heart of the problem. Harry Potter. Of course.

'Sweetheart, you can't expect your brother to share his friends, no matter how much you may want to meet one of them. That's not how life works.'

Ginny's chin jutted out and her eyes held a challenging stare as she looked at Molly, absolutely sure of her own mind. 'But, Mum. It's Harry Potter, and Ron says I'm not allowed to be with them at school.' Ginny's hands clenched and her voice dropped into a whine. 'It's not fair.'

'Oh love!' Molly paused from her work to give Ginny a quick hug. 'I know it's not easy to hear, but that's the way of life. You'll be in different years, so even if he wanted to, you couldn't be together all the time.'

'He didn't even care that it's Harry Potter, Mum. Why does he get to be friends and I don't?' There was a hint of awe in Ginny's voice and her face lit up as she breathed her hero's name. The longing Ginny felt to know someone so famous was unmistakable.

Giving Ginny's shoulder one last affectionate squeeze, Molly turned back to her work. 'Probably _because_ he doesn't care, love. I imagine that poor boy is sick of people who only want to know him because of who he is.'

Ginny thought about it for a while, and admitted the wisdom of her mother's words. After all, she knew what it was like to live with everyone expecting certain things of you just because of who you happened to be. But that was different. All that Ginny had was being the unexpected girl. Harry Potter actually was 'someone' already, and now Ron was too because he was his friend. This led her to another grievance.

'Ron acts like he's so cool. Like going to school makes him better than me.' Her voice was bitter with frustration and jealousy. She slid off the bench and moved to the table, kicking the leg as she went to vent some of her feelings. Molly laid some fresh scones on the table and put a cup of steaming weak tea in front of Ginny, laughing while she did so.

'Don't you remember Ron's rage when Fred and George came home after their first year and acted the same? Or the way the twins had to play even more pranks on Percy than usual because he was so puffed up with importance?'

Ginny thought about it, then nodded reluctant agreement.

'I don't like it, Mum. I was here by myself all year and I thought ... I thought Ron would miss me too, but he doesn't. He only wants to talk about his cool school friends.' She took a sip of her tea to distract herself from the feelings that swirled in her.

'I'm sure he did miss you, Ginny. But it's not his fault that you were alone when he was at school.' As Ginny opened her mouth to protest, Molly carried on, 'I know it's unfair, Ginny. But that's what you get being the youngest.' There was a lump in Molly's throat as she looked at Ginny. It really was unfair being the youngest, but there were certain compensations. Opening her mouth to point these out to Ginny, Molly was stopped when Ginny herself spoke up.

'Mum?'

"Yes, dear?"

Ginny kept her eyes on her mug as she said, 'I'm scared.'

This was obviously what Ginny had been leading up to, and Molly breathed an internal sigh of relief.

'Of what, dear? '

'Of going to school.' Ginny's voice was low, with none of the slightly whiny quality it had held when she was talking about Ron's friendship with Harry.

'What about school?'

'Meeting new people, being away from home. Missing you and Dad. What if no-one wants to be my friend?' Ginny's voice dropped to a whisper. 'Ron says his friends won't want to.'

Molly reached over and squeezed Ginny's hand. 'Oh love, you know what Ron's like. He's only winding you up. Of course you'll meet people. Luna Lovegood from across the way will be going to school too. You'll know her at least.'

Ginny's mouth twisted a little. 'But Mum, she's weird. She says strange stuff.'

Molly looked at Ginny thoughtfully over her tea cup, and eventually said, 'Ginny, do you remember how you once told me you didn't like the way people always expected you to be a certain way because of your place in the family and how you're the only girl?'

'Yeah.'

'Well, don't you think that expecting Luna to be weird, or Harry Potter to be amazing, is doing that same thing to them?'

Ginny's face shut down, and her mother knew she had lost the conversation.

'Just think about it a little, OK dear? Harry will be coming to visit soon, and we can invite Luna over for an afternoon, so you can see how you like her now she's a little older. And I promise, you will make friends at school.' She patted her daughter's hand as she got up to begin preparing the evening meal. Ginny gave her a wan smile, but didn't look totally reassured by the conversation.

Ginny did think about what her mother had said. It was one of the only things she thought about for the next few days. Despite what her mum had said, the idea of going to school and having to make new friend s outside her family still terrified her, and she decided that the best way to convince Ron to let her join him and his friends was to talk about them constantly. Or, more to the point, to talk about Harry Potter constantly. While she k new that her mother was probably right about the expectations she was putting onto the people she met, Ginny couldn't help doing it.

When Luna came to visit, she _was_ weird, with a kind of spacey disinterest in what others thought of her. Ginny envied her the ability not to care about the opinions of others, but she still couldn't see past the oddness to want to be friends with this person even though she was desperate for a friend. As for Harry, well, Ginny already knew he was amazing. Ron's stories of everything the two of them and his other friend Hermione had done, were thrilling. Ginny wanted nothing more than to join in, to be part of the glamour that seemed to surround Harry, and even Ron by association.

Ginny loved her mother, of course she did, but sometimes she wondered if her mother actually knew her at all. She had, in fact, seen her mother's smirk when she mentioned Harry's name that day, and it incensed her. Yes, she wanted to meet him, but it was more about the prestige of being his friend than it was about anything romantic. She had seen him twice, after all, and he wasn't all that much to look at with his baggy clothes and shaggy hair. But it really wasn't fair that Ron got to be his friend and wouldn't share. Ginny was left to be a nobody by herself, while Ron got to be friends with one of the most famous people alive. And ... and, Ron already had friends and she had none, and now she had to go to school so soon and _what if people didn't like her_?

She knew Molly meant well, but Ginny found herself doubting some of the things that she had said. She swung uncomfortably between being relieved from her fears by what her mother had told her, and having her fears screeching out of control because she just couldn't believe it could be as easy as that.

When Harry did arrive, Ginny became even more despairing. For the first time in her life, she wasn't able to hold a conversation with someone. How could she possibly make nice friends at school when she couldn't even talk to the one person she most wanted to befriend? It was with ever-deepening worry that she boarded the train that would take her to this new place where people would judge her not on being 'the girl' but on being herself. As much as she had wished to be accepted for who she was, Ginny was scared that she might not be good enough.


	4. Tom Riddle

**Tom Riddle.**

When Ginny had left Dumbledore's office after her first disastrous year at school, she had been happy and felt like she had got over the nightmare of having Tom Riddle nestling in her head. When she rode home on the train with her brothers and their friends she had still felt perfectly happy and joined in with their banter with ease. However now, a few days into the summer holiday, she felt dirty and ill at ease again. The fear she had harboured of being the only one not to make friends, the connection between her and Tom Riddle that had at first been so sweet and affirming and then turned out so terrifying preyed on her mind. What was it about _her_ that had made her so weak, so susceptible to the evil in the diary? Once again, Ginny found herself craving her mother's advice and the comfort she could hand out in between the outbursts of her infamous temper.

So Ginny found herself pacing around the doorway to the house waiting for her mother to get home from her latest trip out to Diagon Alley to get supplies for their trip to Egypt. When Molly arrived back with Arthur, they found her hovering anxiously in the doorway. Her mother took one look at her and gave her husband a peck on the cheek, asking him to put their purchases away. Then she asked Ginny to help her degnome the garden. With a sigh of relief Ginny followed her mother outside.

When they had chivvied Ron back inside and had got a good rhythm in the gnome throwing, Molly casually asked her daughter a question.

'What's bothering you, Ginny? You seem a little unlike yourself since you got home. Is it,' Molly hesitated, 'is it because of what happened?'

Ginny shuddered as she thought about it, about how sullied she had felt all through her momentous first year at school. 'Yeah. I just feel like ... like I should have tried harder, fought harder ... I don't know.' She threw a gnome over the fence with far more force than strictly necessary.

'Ginny, you fought as hard as you could. It's not your fault that that evil book got a hold of you.' Her mother's gnome landed next to Ginny's and they began chittering angrily at each other as they trudged away from the fenceline.

'But, I feel like it _is_ my fault, Mum. I was so desperate for a friend that I let him get hold of me. I ... I liked the way he made me feel.' She bent down to pick up another gnome, accidentally squeezing it hard, making it squeak in indignation. Dropping it over the fence, she turned to her mother. 'What if I really am ... evil?' It was evident from her tone that this possibility seemed very real to Ginny and Molly stood up, allowing the gnome she had meant to pick up to get away.

She took Ginny's face in her hands and looked her in the eye. 'Never think that, never. You're a good person, and I think you know that.' She smiled at her daughter with affection, patted her cheek and bent down to catch the gnome that had foolishly reappeared at her feet. 'You said it yourself ... you were desperate for friends, and so he was able to use that.'

'But Mum,' Ginny said in a miserable tone as she scoured the grounds for another gnome, 'he seemed so nice. How can you ever tell if someone is what they seem to be?'

Molly scrutinised her carefully. Ginny was clearly worried and upset, and Molly remembered just how concerned she had been about making friends last year. It looked like those fears had been magnified, with good reason, but it wasn't healthy and it really was time that Ginny learned how to size people up for herself.

'First, sweetheart, you have to remember that Dumbledore said _everyone _was taken in by Riddle, so I don't think anyone could have resisted him. That doesn't make you weak.' She shuddered as she thought again about You-Know-Who being inside Ginny.

'I guess.' The tone of voice was mutinous and the gnome Ginny was holding was flung over the fence fiercely enough that it bounced as it landed. Ginny stood for a few moments looking out over the field next door. She took one deep breath after disposing of the gnome and turned to look at her mother. 'But, the thing is he seemed so nice. He acted no different to any of the other people I talked to this year, so how will I know if I,' Ginny stopped, gulping back some tears that were threatening to spill over, and her voice was anxious , '... if I meet someone else like that? I don't want to be taken in again, Mum.'

Molly took her into her arms and though she would normally resist such motherly coddling, Ginny melted into her embrace. 'I know, dear. I think the thing to do is not cut yourself off from other people just because of this. I know it's tempting, and I know it would be easy, but it won't help you in the long run.' Ginny stiffened in her arms so Molly let her go and threw one last gnome over the fence. She sat down on a rickety wooden bench that Ginny knew was only held together by strong magic. Ginny sighed and slid onto the bench beside her mother, but her body language was stiff and she held herself aloof from any contact with Molly. Always attuned to the needs of her children, even if she didn't always pander to them, Molly kept her distance.

'Now, as to how you'll know if you meet someone like that again the simple answer is you won't know. You can't. That is a hard thing to hear I know.' Molly took Ginny's hand and gave it a squeeze as her daughter shuddered. 'The thing is, you just need to learn balance in how you approach people. Don't cut them right off like I know you're thinking of doing.'

Ginny blushed, and murmured something that sounded like, 'I wasn't going to ...' and Molly smiled at her and carried on.

'But you don't need to become best friends with everyone right away either. Be friendly, be open, but hold your full trust in check 'til you really know someone. That way you're less likely to be hurt if you do run into someone ... well, someone bad again.'

They sat in companionable silence, Molly still holding Ginny's hand, for several minutes, appreciating the beauty of the surrounding garden. Then Ginny broached another subject that had been bothering her.

'Mum? I don't know if people will, you know, like me now. I – I mean I did all that stuff even if I didn't mean to ... and ... and I was only friends with Tom. Everyone already has friends, and how will I ever find someone to be friends with?'

Molly gave her a small hug and said, 'you know what Ginny? I don't actually know. But if the people around you don't want you to be their friends then I have to say they probably aren't worth it.'

Ginny huffed in frustration. 'That isn't helping, Mum. I look at Ron and he made friends so easily ... why can't I be like him?'

'I don't know, love. But you're you, and you are a wonderful person, despite having made a mistake or two.' Molly looked at Ginny sideways and smiled gently. She was looking pensive and Molly took a chance on a new tack. 'Do you remember when we talked about school last year, and you didn't want to know people like Luna?'

'Yeah.'

'I do wonder if you might take another look at her from where you sit now, Ginny.'

Her daughter looked at her with accusing eyes. 'I'm not being friends with rejects just because I'm a reject now too.' She stood up and made to leave and Molly grasped her hand and pulled her back down.

'No, no ... that's not what I mean, Ginny. You have been at a real low point, love; you know what it's like to be shunned and to have people not want to be your friend because of their perceptions. Don't you think it's time to take a look at some of those other people who have been there too?'

Ginny shrugged noncommittally then said, 'what if I still don't like them? Luna really was ... well, weird.'

'Then you move on, love. But don't ignore people just because they don't appear the way you want them to.' She squeezed her daughter's hand and then got up to go inside. 'You might also think about Ron's friend, Hermione. I think she seems a little lonely for girl company. Ron and Harry are lovely boys but at the end of the day they are boys, and she might be happy to have another girl to talk to sometimes.' She smiled down at Ginny. 'Just think about it, okay?'

Ginny smiled back and when her mother asked if she wanted to come inside, she shook her head. She stayed outside, enjoying the peace and feeling somehow happier than she had before. She knew her mother was right. She could feel herself flowing back inside. She was strong, and she now had a plan. Ginny didn't need to hide from her past but nor did she need to dwell in it either. By the time she returned to the house she was happier than she had been in over a year and she knew she would be okay. If she was herself, the herself she really was, not the one she had been hiding as all year, people would like her. And if they didn't ... well, then she didn't need to bother with them anyway. It was a much happier and much more confident Ginny who re-entered the house that day. She felt she was finally on the path to knowing who the real Ginny Weasley might be.


	5. World Cup

**World Cup**

The world cup was several days in the past now, and yet it still preyed on Ginny's mind. How, in Merlin's name, could it have gone so horribly, terribly wrong? What made the Death Eaters decide to do what they did. Oh yes, it sounded very silly – almost childish even – that they were in masks and dangling people in the air. Not exactly the stuff nightmares are made of, and yet there was something about what had happened that troubled Ginny. Her dad had pointed out the muggle-baiting attitude and the deeper things it implied and the idea terrified Ginny.

'Mum?' she said tentatively one day while they sat together in the Lounge watching the boys around them play several raucous games of chess and exploding snap.

'How will I know that Tom Riddle is totally gone from me? I mean really gone?'

Molly turned to her, concern etched all over her face. 'I thought you had dealt with that, Ginny.'

'I did, Mum. But ... the World Cup made me think about it some more. I mean ... those people didn't have ... _him_ in their heads and yet they decided to attack the quidditch, and ... and it seems so weird.' The words all tumbled out of her and it was hard for Molly to make them out, but she eventually worked it out.

'Oh, Ginny. The reason they made those choices and the reason they did those things isn't because they are 'evil' and have You-Know-Who standing over them invading their thoughts.' Molly leaned forward earnestly, making sure Ginny was paying attention. 'They made those choices because they believe some very scary things.'

Ginny blanched as Molly spoke, so she leant over and gave her daughter a quick hug. 'You don't have to worry, dear. Let's look at it another way. How do you feel about the things those people did?'

Ginny's forehead creased as she forced herself to think about what had happened. 'I ... well, it was awful, Mum. There was no reason for it. They just ... just attacked those people because they were muggles.'

Her mother sat back and clapped her hands together as if proving a point. 'Exactly dear, and there you have the difference between you and them.'

Ginny looked confused, her brow furrowed as she tried to process this. 'So ... because I think it was silly I won't ever do it?'

Molly laughed. 'Almost. It's not that you think it was silly, it's that you think it was terrible that they attacked those people because _they are muggles._'

'I guess.' Ginny still looked thoughtful and her mother tried to put herself in Ginny's shoes. She had been invaded by one of the most evil people who had ever existed and she had recently witnessed atrocities perpetrated in his name. She was young and confused and she had yet to learn that the values you have can't be compromised from the outside. Molly glanced sideways at Ginny, and rethought that last idea. Ginny wasn't worried about an attack from outside; she had proven herself to be remarkably resilient in the time after their last talk about You-Know-Who. No, it became clear suddenly that Ginny was worried about a lingering taint inside her that would turn her 'bad.'

'How are your friendships going, dear?' Ginny started at what appeared to her to be an abrupt change of subject and looked up at her mother in confusion.

'I ... Okay, I guess. Why?' The voice was puzzled as Ginny looked up at her mother.

'I was just wondering. We haven't really talked about your fears from last year. Did you make some nice friends?' Molly flicked her wand at her knitting and kept an eagle on the wool as the needles starting working.

Ginny blushed as she answered her mother. She vividly remembered telling her that she wouldn't be friends with Luna Lovegood because she was weird, and yet Luna was now one of her many friends. 'Well, yeah, I did.'

'I'm just wondering what criteria you used to choose them.' Molly was angling towards some point, Ginny could tell and she let out an exasperated huff.

'I dunno. I chose people I like, I guess. Like Hermione, and some of my room mates, and Colin Creevey and Luna I guess.' Ginny smiled as she thought about her friends and her mother grinned as she watched her.

'And are all those people influential? Do they all have pure blood like yours? Can you get things out of them?'

Ginny's head snapped up and she stared at Molly in horror. What possessed her mother to think Ginny would choose on that sort of basis?

'What? No! Of course not, Mum. What a thing to ask.' Ginny's voice was strident as she denied the idea.

'Well, then do you think they are inferior because you can't get those things out of them. Do you want your muggle and half-blood friends to serve you?'

Ginny sank back against the cushions of the couch they were sitting on and sighed.

'I see where you're going, Mum. And no, of course I don't. It's wrong to judge people like that, or only be friends for what you can get and I wouldn't do that.'

Her mother squeezed her hand and said, 'So, you see, Ginny. Despite having once been taken in by a very evil person, despite having had him,' she shuddered, 'in your head ... you still know the right things to do. You didn't choose your friends based on blood or influence, so I think you're safe.'

'Thanks Mum.' Ginny smiled and gave her mother another hug as they watched the boys squabble over the current game of snap.

'That's not to say, Ginny, that you can relax your vigilance though. All of us are susceptible to making the wrong choices, so we all still have to consciously do what is right.'

Ginny turned her eyes towards Harry, who was playing Ron at chess with a serious look on his face. He always tried so hard to win and yet he never managed to beat Ron. That didn't stop him from honing his skills and trying again and again to do it. She grinned as she thought about it. This was an attitude she could take up, she realised. Her ridiculous crush on Harry may as well have some good impact on her life.

As Molly watched her, Ginny's shoulders firmed and she straightened her back. It was obvious that she had come to a decision. She heard her murmur something like, 'If Harry can do it, then so can I,' before she turned to her mother with a grin and said, 'D'ya wanna have a game of snap with me? I bet we could beat those boys.'

Over the next few days, Ginny thought about what her mother had said. She realised it was about time to stand up and look after herself. It wasn't that her parents weren't wonderful and wouldn't look after her as well, but she was away from them so much at school that she didn't always have them as a guide. She needed to learn who she was inside so she could be sure that she wouldn't make any slip-ups back towards Riddle's brand of evil. In all the horror of the year she spent with that diary and the time since when she had made new friends, she had lost sight of who she was and what she wanted. Well, that wasn't quite true. Ginny knew what she wanted, but she had drifted away from discovering who she was deep inside and that had led her to these fears. It was time, she told herself firmly, to reconnect with Ginny.

Who did Ginny want to be? The sweet, quiet girl so many people knew at school, or the outgoing, cheeky girl she knew she really could be? Her mother was right about one thing. It was time to look at her core values and see what she could become when she lived by them rather than by fear.

Ginny slipped up to her mother one day and slid her arms around her waist. 'I love you, Mum, you know that?'

A flood of warmth washed over Molly and she hugged Ginny's arms to her as she said, 'well, of course I do dear. What brought this on?'

'I don't know. Maybe knowing I can talk to you about anything and that it will always help me somehow. Thanks for everything, Mum. I really appreciate it.'

Molly turned around and gave her daughter a warm hug back. 'You're always welcome, dear. I'm your mother and I'll always be here whenever you want to talk.'

'I know.' Ginny smiled impishly at her mother and hugged her again for good measure.


	6. Growing Up

**Growing Up.**

Molly was feeling stressed. Rumours had reached her, via Xenophilius Lovegood, that her youngest child was dating. It's not that Molly wasn't expecting it sometime, but she had thought she had a year or two left before Ginny took that leap. The girl was only thirteen after all, nowhere near old enough to be kissing and cuddling with boys. Yes, Fred and George had been precocious that way, too, but Ginny just seemed so much younger than her brothers, and she seemed more vulnerable too. Maybe it was just because she was a girl, or maybe because she was the youngest, but Molly was more worried about the effects on Ginny of early dating. It looked like it was time for another of 'those' talks, as Molly had taken to calling them in her head.

Ginny was home from school for the summer, and Molly chose her moment carefully. They had just finished picking strawberries from the garden, eating almost as many as they gathered and both were relaxed and carefree. They had laid their baskets down and were lying in the scented grass at the back of the property. Ginny flipped onto her stomach and squinted at her mother .

'Mum? Did you know when you met Dad that you would marry him?' Ginny had a curious tone to her voice that was half-hopeful and half-anxious. Despite trying to appear as relaxed as she had mere moments ago, Ginny's body was tensed. The answer clearly meant a lot to her.

Molly's breath swept out of her as she realised that her daughter really was dating, but she kept her voice calm as she turned towards Ginny.

'Maybe not right away, but I knew before we started dating that he was the one for me. He was always so kind and thoughtful, and he never once minded if I shouted, and even then I shouted a lot.'

Ginny giggled, but sobered quickly. Her fingers kept scratching at the grass even while she squinted up at her mother. 'What if there was someone you thought was the right one, but he didn't notice you, so you went out with someone else and then you thought he might be the right one, too?'

A soft smile crept onto Molly's face as she remembered her own teenhood, and her voice was gentle as she answered. 'Ginny, not everyone is like your father and I. Most people need to date more than one person before they find that one they really connect with. You're young, you have plenty of time to work it out.'

Molly sat up, and clasped her hands around her legs. She took a deep breath and steeled herself to have this very difficult talk with Ginny. Ginny was idly playing with a clover that had peeked up through the grasses, and was paying her mother no attention at all.

'Ginny?'

'Yeah?'

Her mother hesitated a little before she said, 'are you ... seeing someone at school?'

Ginny sighed in resignation as she, too, sat up, fixing intense eyes onto her mother's face. 'Who told?'

'Well, I heard it from Xenophilius Lovegood. Luna's in his house, you know. Your boyfriend's.'

'I know, Mum. It's not that big a deal though, honest.'

'Not that big a deal? Ginny, going out with a boy is a big deal no matter when it happens. But at thirteen ... it's a huge deal.'

Ginny huffed, the laziness of the day forgotten. 'I'm fourteen next week, and it is honestly _not_ a big deal. Yes, I'm thirteen, but so what? I'm not a baby and I'm not doing anything with him, and before you say anything, I know all about sex and I'm not rushing out to do it.'

Molly's face twisted at the word, but she remained calm as she answered, still with her arms clasped around her legs.

'It's not always planned, though, Ginny. Things can get out of control, and you're only thirteen and you're not ready for what comes with the new things you're feeling.'

Ginny's face became mutinous. 'And what am I feeling, Mum? You don't know, you have no idea. You're assuming things about me that have no basis in fact.' The grass was pulled even more viciously from the ground as Ginny avoided her mother's eyes.

Molly sighed, but kept her tone as light as she could. 'You're right, I don't know specifically how you're feeling. But you just got through asking me how you know if someone is 'the one' and I know what that means.'

Ginny stood up abruptly and towered over Molly in her anger. 'No, you don't. You assume that because I'm going out with someone that it's a slippery slope to a life of debauchery. Well, I have news for you. It's not. You never did this to the boys when they started dating, but because I'm a girl you think I'll automatically become a fallen woman.'

The venom in Ginny's voice startled Molly and she tried to answer, but Ginny stalked off, leaving her mother speechless. How on earth did that conversation go that bad, that fast? She sighed and got to her feet. She'd give Ginny a little time to cool down then approach her again. It was never a good idea to try to talk to her daughter when she was angry, and Molly knew she had blown it somehow. The delicate trust between them had shattered, and she needed to regain it. Perhaps the first port of call would be rethinking her assumptions about her daughter, and maybe she needed to listen to her rather than talk at her. She headed into the house deep in thought.

A few hours later, Molly determined that enough time had passed that her daughter might be receptive to seeing her again. Ginny hadn't come down to dinner, telling a very surprised Ron that she wasn't hungry. With some trepidation, Molly knocked on the door to the smallest bedroom in the house.

'Ginny? Ginny, can I come in please?'

There was no answer, which Molly took as enough invitation to enter the room, and carefully shut the door behind her. She looked at her youngest child, lying scrunched up on her bed steadfastly facing away from her mother, taking in the newly gawky angles of her body. Where had the small child gone? The one who had skinned knees and untidy hair because she tried too hard to keep up with her brothers? This Ginny had grown into a tall young woman. It was no wonder that boys were starting to pay attention. While Molly's back had been turned her daughter had stopped being a little girl.

She sat down gingerly on the edge of the bed, and reached towards Ginny's shoulder, pulling back as the girl twitched away from her.

'I'm sorry, Ginny. I handled that all wrong. Before we talk any more, I need you to know that I trust you. It was just a shock to find you growing up before my eyes, that's all.'

There was a mutinous mumbling from the depths of the pillow that Ginny had buried her face in, and while Molly couldn't hear the words, she understood the meaning very well. 'Stop interfering in my life' sounds the same no matter what volume it's mumbled in.

'I just don't understand. What happened with Harry? I thought you liked him?'

Ginny did sit up then, and glared at her mother, though still clutching onto the pillow as if it was a lifeline. 'You mean, you wanted me to like him because he's safe and you can keep tabs on him the same way you can with me.'

Molly reached out towards Ginny, but pulled her hand back when Ginny flinched away again, wrapping herself even more firmly around the pillow.

'Ginny, you know that's not what I mean,' Molly sighed. 'It was always Harry with you but suddenly it's this other boy. Where did it come from?' As an afterthought she added, 'and Harry is anything but safe, dear.'

'Michael likes me, he notices me. He pays attention to me, and Harry never did that. Harry was a fantasy, Mum, Michael is real.'

Molly swallowed back a reply. This was exactly what she had been worried about. Thirteen, nearly fourteen, was too young to be dealing with the realities of a relationship. Molly would far rather have had her daughter still indulging in the sweet fantasy of the boy who was so close to the family, but it seemed Ginny had moved on before her parents were ready for it.

'I understand dear, I really do. But please, just promise me you'll be careful. These emotions can hurt you even if you don't mean them to, even if you don't, what was it? Indulge in a life of debauchery.'

Ginny gave a reluctant chuckle, but still remained steadfastly wrapped around her pillow.

'I know, Mum. But he's nice, and we aren't doing anything much, honest.'

Wondering what 'much' entailed, but knowing not to press her child, Molly smiled at her.

'I know, and I do trust you Ginny. Just ... just be careful, OK.' She brushed Ginny's hair back off her face before standing up to leave the room.

Ginny watched her mother leave the room and sighed heavily. She knew her mother meant well, but she could be so infuriating at times. And for all she said she trusted Ginny, it was clear that she still thought that 'things' would happen if Ginny had a boyfriend. _It's not fair_ she thought. Fred and George had been flirting and having meaningless relationshipsat her age, and yet her parents had never tried to keep them pure and innocent. She snorted at the idea. Fred and George had never been pure, she was sure. They'd probably come out of the womb playing pranks and flirting madly with everyone in sight. She sobered quickly. That still didn't make it fair. This was just one more example of how being the youngest (and the _girl_, she added with a sneer) was a burden. It was like her mother was actively trying to stop her from growing up.

It didn't help that Ron was showing no signs of being interested in girls other than his friend Hermione, who was 'safe' in Molly's terms because she was a known entity. He and Harry were both quite ... Ginny cast around for the right word ... quite ... backwards, maybe. Well, anyway, neither of them had exactly grown up and really started to think about the opposite sex in 'that' way. That made it harder for her parents to accept that Ginny, herself, was growing up. Ron's innocence was yet another barrier to Ginny's growth. She sighed. It looked like she was going to have to forge ahead by herself. There was no way Ginny Weasley was going to stick around waiting for her brother to grow up before she did so herself. And her mother was just going to have to learn to live with that.


	7. Quidditch

_A/N: I've got myself hopelessly confused as to where I'm up to in answering comments. If I haven't answered yours it's not because I'm ignoring you, but because I'm hopeless. Huge apologies!_

**Quidditch.**

Ginny was trying to decide what she wanted to do with her life. For too long she had been told what to do and who to be by other people. But what did she want? Who did Ginny herself want to be? The one place where Ginny felt free, and away from the burden of the expectations her family still heaped on her, was in the air. The decision was therefore easy. Ginny was going to become a quidditch star. She no longer tried to hide her flying from her brothers (Ginny was no shrinking violet anymore, after all), but she did have to go out when they weren't using their brooms.

Molly walked outside one afternoon when the boys had gone to the village for the afternoon, and watched her daughter flying. She was so focused, so intent on what she was doing, urging the old cleansweep she was riding to go faster and turn more quickly, that she didn't notice her mother on the ground below, with her hand raised above her eyes shading them. Molly's heart twisted as she watched Ginny. This was not the small child she had cuddled and nurtured, no this was a fast maturing young woman, and the knowledge that at least part of that was due to her experiences with Tom Riddle's diary was terrifying.

Eventually Ginny noticed her mother and came in to land.

'Hi, Mum,' she said. She was barely sweating, despite what had looked like the rigours of the flight.

'How are you doing up there?' Molly indicated the air, and Ginny grinned at her, her freckles bright against her flushed skin.

'I'm getting better, Mum. Can't do much with this old broom,' she looked down at the weathered handle with a mix of affection and frustration, 'but every day I get a little bit better.'

'It's always felt so inevitable to me, you know,' Molly said with a faraway look on her face. 'You playing quidditch I mean. You've always been a fierce one and so determined to do everything the boys do.'

'Oh, not _everything_, Mum. There are a few things I'll leave up to them, thanks.' Ginny giggled at the look on her mother's face.

She laced her arm through her mother's and drew her along to sit on the ground beside her.

'Do you think I can do it?'

'Play quidditch? Yes I think so dear. Watching you today I realised you're as skilled at this as your brothers and you have the determination.'

'I want to play for Gryffindor, but I'm not sure how the boys will react.' Ginny looked into the faraway distance as if envisaging what her brothers would say if she was ever reckless enough to mention that she wanted to play quidditch professionally.

Molly looked at her daughter's earnest face. 'Do you really care?' she asked gently. 'Think about it – if you made the team and the boys rejected you because of it, how would you react?'

Ginny refocused on her mother and stared her in the eyes. Her voice when she spoke was determined.

'I'd be the best bloody quidditch player this family has ever seen and damn them all!'

'Of course you would.' Molly smiled at her daughter and gave her a squeeze. 'So, if this is what you really want, you should just go out there and do it.' She gave a reminiscent chuckle. 'Do you remember when you were a wee girl insisting you wanted to play quidditch and you weren't going to let being a girl get in your way?'

'Yeah.' Ginny laughed a little at the memory of her tiny self standing there so forthrightly declaring that she wasn't going to be a girl anymore. 'But I kind of like being a girl now, and there are some amazing female quidditch players in the league these days.

'So, when are you going out for the team? This coming year?'

'I don't think so. No, don't look at me like that, Mum,' she added as Molly's brow creased and she opened her mouth to say something.

'Like what?'

'Like you think I'm chickening out. I'm not. I just know I'm not ready; I've got better, a lot better, but I'm not good enough for the team.' Ginny sounded furious as she refuted her mother's idea.

'Okay, okay.' Molly raised her hands in mock fear as Ginny blazed with her tirade. They sat in peace side by side for a while, listening to the wind ruffling the trees surrounding them.

'I think you're wrong, you know,' Molly said finally, turning to look Ginny in the eyes. 'I think you're plenty good enough to be on the team. But until you know that in here,' she patted Ginny's heart, 'you're not going to do a good job.'

She stood up and smiled at her daughter. 'Just think about it, okay Ginny?'

Ginny remained seated, arms clasped around her legs, head on her knees and thought about it. She knew her mother meant well but she was talking from a biased perspective. Ginny wasn't being modest when she said she wasn't good enough for the team. She hadn't watched Harry covertly for years without picking up an enormous body of knowledge of the current Gryffindor team. Fred and George had told her what Oliver Wood had said at his speech at the start of one year, that they had the best people on their brooms and from what Ginny had seen Oliver hadn't been exaggerating. The team worked as a cohesive unit, even now that Oliver had gone. Yes, they hadn't played last year because of the Triwizard Tournament, but Ginny had seen Harry and the others out practising anyway at least until the pitch had been used for a maze. Ginny's lips curled in derision at the use the pitch had been put to. Even though there was nothing riding on the practices, the team had worked hard to be a unified group and Ginny knew that she wasn't as good as the chasers already on the team.

She sighed and got up, moving inside to see her mother again. She found Molly sitting in the lounge with her knitting needles clicking away beside her.

'I just want to say thanks for believing in me, Mum,' Ginny said, sliding onto the couch next to Molly.

'Of course I do. There's no doubt in my mind that you can do this.' Molly stopped and looked hard at her youngest child. 'But you still doubt yourself, don't you?'

'No, or at least not in the way you mean. I know I can do this, Mum. But I also know I can't do it _yet_. I'm going to practise hard all this year and get really good and wow them all at the trials for next year.' She smiled impishly. 'They are not going to know what hit them.'

Molly laughed, the sound throaty and warm. 'Now, _that's_ my girl. Believe in yourself, love, and all the rest will follow.'

'Of course. How else will I ever get to be a world-famous quidditch player? The Gryffindor team is my first stepping stone to a career in the big leagues.'

'What position are you after, love? Seeker?' Molly cast a sly look sideways at Ginny.

Ginny gave her an unimpressed glare and said, 'No! Of course not. I want to be a chaser – it's much more fun getting away from other people than it is trying to seek after something practically impossible to see. Chasers have way more fun in the game, they do the most stuff and the coolest.'

'Plus, there's three of them,' Molly said, seriously. 'You'd have a better chance of getting in.'

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'Mum! It doesn't work like that. There may be more chasers, but there are more people wanting to be chaser, too.'

She twirled on the spot, excited by the quidditch talk, seeing dreams of her future shimmer in front of her eyes. Determined to make it as a player, Ginny headed outside again to practice some more.

Molly watched Ginny as she pirouretted her way out of the kitchen, hair flying behind her. Much as it hurt her to admit it, Molly knew it was a good thing that Ginny had the self-confidence to accept that she wasn't ready to fly yet and to keep trying as hard as she could to improve enough to get where she wanted to go. Quidditch was a dangerous career, but Molly would cut off her right arm before she stood in the way of her daughter's dream.

Out of the window she watched as Ginny did the same move over and over again, correcting minute problems in her technique with each attempt. One thing she knew for sure: Ginny was the type of girl who would never give up. She hadn't given up over the diary thing, she hadn't let lack of friends in her first year stop her from making new ones and she sure as hell wouldn't let a small thing like not being the best quidditch player yet stop her either.

Proud as she was of her daughter and her attitude, Molly still had to suppress a sigh at the idea of her youngest child already knowing what she wanted out of life and so determinedly going out there and trying to get it. Dragging her eyes away Ginny, Molly turned back to her own chores, leaving Ginny to the flights of dreamers and the dogged determination of the hard worker.


	8. Revelations

**Revelations**

Once again, Molly found herself hovering in the doorway as she listened to a conversation her youngest child was having. This time, she wished she could avoid hearing it, but it was obvious that any movement would distract Ginny and Molly didn't want to intrude. Instead she tried hard to avoid hearing too much of what was passing between Ginny and this latest boy, a friend of Ron's called Dean. In desperation, Molly looked around for a way to noiselessly leave the area and caught a glimpse of someone else who seemed miserably caught and trying to avoid overhearing the conversation.

Harry was in a chair in the lounge and Molly was sure Ginny didn't know he was there. He looked as if he wanted to run; to clear the vicinity, and the look on his face drew Molly's compassion. It was clear that he was unhappy about the state of affairs with Ginny and this boy, who, Molly realised with a start, would be one of Harry's friends too.

'I don't need you to look after me, Dean,' Ginny was saying in an irritated voice. 'I am perfectly capable of finding my way onto the train without you.'

'But Ginny, I just want to see you. I'm not saying you can't get on without me. I just thought you might miss me too and want to meet a little early.'

Ginny's voice softened. 'Of course I do, Dean. OK, I'll see you outside platform 9 ¾ then.' She smiled and blew Dean a kiss and Molly let out the breath she was holding as Ginny stood up and left the room, thankfully heading in the opposite direction from the door where her mother was standing. She looked towards Harry again and the hands he held clenched on his knees had relaxed as Ginny left, but the look on his face was unchanged.

Molly slipped backwards into the kitchen leaving him alone. She thought about what she had seen and later that day called Ginny to the kitchen to help her with some chores. It was always easier to talk to her children when they were helping her like this. She waited as they worked before she said anything, but soon she could feel the rhythms of cooking kicking in and was finally able to talk to her daughter.

'Ginny, I accidentally overheard your talk over the floo today ... with Dean.' Molly kept up the steady rhythm of the chopping process, but watched Ginny out of the corner of her eye.

Ginny sighed, her focus on the food dropping away. 'It's OK. It wasn't that private anyway.'

Molly looked at her closely, noting the way Ginny's eyes had hardened when the conversation started. 'You don't seem yourself when you talk to him, dear. What's going on?'

'I don't know, Mum. I feel ... he smothers me a bit.' She stopped and thought for a moment, her hands stilling as she did so. 'And that annoys the hell out of me.'

Molly smiled. 'I could tell dear. Do you ...' she probed delicately, wondering whether she was going to trigger her daughter's famous temper. 'Are you sure this is the right relationship for you?'

Ginny looked up from her preparations. 'I don't know. Do you remember me saying ages ago that I wasn't sure how to tell if the guy was the right one?'

'Of course I do,' Molly smiled. 'You seemed so young and I overreacted.'

'Well, I still don't know. Dean seemed like the right one when we started dating, but now he just ... well, it doesn't feel the same.' She looked at her mother beseechingly. 'How will I ever know? I mean, it always seems so good at the start and then they change ... what if I get married one day and the guy changes and I can't get out of it?'

'I think when it's the right one, you just know that you can weather the storms. It's ... different somehow.'

'But you said you knew Dad was the one right from the start.'

'Oh, I did, but I ignored it. I tried out a couple of other boys before I gave in and saw what was right in front of my face.'

'Hmmmmm, I guess.' Ginny didn't sound convinced as she resumed her steady chopping. 'I just feel like they're always the same. They start out nice and then just go funny on me.'

Molly gave her a searching look. 'Are you sure they're all the same, or are you choosing ones you subconsciously know will do this? From memory, you had similar issues with Michael last year, right?'

'Yeah. He got all jealous of my quidditch, and now Dean keeps trying to treat me like a delicate piece of china. What's wrong with me?'

'There's nothing wrong with you love, you're just not finding the right guys. These boys aren't bad, and they make good fun relationships, but you already know they aren't going to last the distance, right?'

Ginny grimaced. 'I never thought they would, but I did think going out with them might be fun and not so irritating. Why is it that only Harry treats me like I'm not going to fall into tiny pieces if I do something? Well, him and Fred and George,' Ginny smiled as she thought about her older prankster brothers.

This was promising, Molly thought. It was clear to her that Harry was becoming interested in Ginny and the fact that Ginny was contrasting him with her boyfriends seemed auspicious. Molly determined to question Ginny about it.

'I wasn't the only one who overheard your conversation.'

Ginny looked up, startled to realise just how public her irritated interaction with Dean had been.

'Harry was in the lounge, and he looked very uncomfortable to be there. He seemed,' she paused, trying to work out the best way to say this. 'He seemed like he didn't like the way Dean was being with you either.'

'Harry was there? Why didn't he say anything?'

'Probably for the same reason I didn't come in either. The conversation seemed very tense, and I know I didn't want to interrupt you.' Molly glanced sideways at her daughter, who was frowning as she filled the large pot with water. 'I think his feelings for you are changing.'

'Mum, don't be stupid. He'll never see me that way and I've moved on from that.' She stopped and turned to her mother. 'I'm not about to go back there and risk heartbreak again.'

'Listen to yourself Ginny. Don't you think you might be choosing these boys who are all wrong for you because they are so different from the one you refuse to let yourself look at again?'

'I don't ... I can't, Mum. It was too hard last time, and I'm happy now that I have him as a friend. Better that that being so lovelorn over him again for no result.'

'Are you sure there would be no result?'

'I can't risk it. He doesn't see me that way, and anyway I have Dean.' Ginny's voice trailed off miserably. Dean wasn't proving to be as ideal a boyfriend as she had hoped when they got together.

'Well, I think Harry has been hit hard too, and I think you may be doing what I did, dear. You're ignoring what's in front of your face, but nothing else is feeling right to you.'

'Okay, I get it Mum. You like Harry and you want us together. I'll keep it in mind.' The snappish tone her daughter had adopted told Molly clearly that it was time to end the conversation. She sighed and smiled at Ginny before steering the conversation into safer territory, like the vegetables they were working on.

Ginny did take her mother's words to heart. Despite her sensible decision to move on from what seemed like a hopeless situation, she wasn't immune to the delightful images her mother's words conjured in her mind. Over the next few days she paid more attention to Harry than usual, but all she saw was the same friendly open guy who had been in her life ever since she had given up on her crush and explored the idea of going out with other boys. She told herself that her mother was mistaken and had seen what she wanted to see in Harry's face.

It wasn't until Ginny got so annoyed at Dean's overprotective stance and broke up with him that she noticed a change in Harry. She saw the way he relaxed more in her presence and the way his face reflected some previously unknown emotion when he looked at her. Her mother's words came back to her and Ginny found herself spending more and more time in Harry's company, and noticing the small things he did that hinted at an interest in her. She noticed the way he laughed when she made a joke, the way he always chose to walk with her to and from quidditch rather than with Ron, the way his eyes strayed towards her whenever they were in a room together. Warmth flooded through her as she saw these things, and for the first time she allowed herself to believe .

Then she won a crucial quidditch game for Gryffindor and Harry kissed her. It was everything she had dreamed of when she first started dreaming of Harry romantically. His hands in her hair, her arms around his shoulders, the feel of his lips on hers, the way everyone else in the room magically seemed to disappear. It was all perfect and Ginny thought that this was the happiest she had been in ... well, possibly forever. The best thing about Harry, she thought as they broke apart to enormous catcalls from the surrounding crowd, was that she had known him for so long and had no illusions about his temperament. He was unlikely to change on her the way Michael and Dean had, so Ginny allowed herself to revel in being with Harry knowing she could rely on him. She also thought that maybe she should listen to her mother's instincts a little more often because sometimes she was right.


	9. Missing in Action

**Missing In Action**

Less than a year later, Ginny learned what her mother had meant when she said that emotions can hurt you, even if you left sex out of it. The time after Harry, Ron and Hermione disapparated in the middle of Bill's wedding was excruciating for her and she was unable to tell anyone why she was so miserable. No-one knew that she had more than her usual feelings for this particular ex-boyfriend, some didn't even know that Harry had been her boyfriend, and what's more she couldn't let them know. So she tended to retreat to her dad's shed to fiddle around with his muggle stuff. He never bothered her with questions, but was always puppyishly happy to see someone share his interests, and often left her alone when she wanted to tinker in peace.

Ginny had been playing around with an old cassette player, trying to see if she could get it to work with magic somehow. It filled in the time, and she felt like she was accomplishing something every time it let out a strained squawk. One day she finally got it to move properly, and let out a loud whoop as the sound of the old muggle music filled the shed. Her excitement turned to pain when she listened to the words spilling out of the contraption.

_Wish I knew what it is you're up to_

_Wish I knew some better way to reach you_

_Something tells me, baby, we're not over yet_

_Don't forget me, don't forget me, Jet._

It hit her square on that Harry was out there somewhere, and that she really had no idea what he was doing, and now that he had left her behind, she didn't have the right to know. The voice sang on, but Ginny was no longer paying attention. She was taking great gasps of air, with her arms wrapped around her waist and willing herself not to cry over him. But those lines played over and over in her head making it hard to calm down. _Don't forget me, Harry, _she thought_. Please, just come back_.

It was while she was still in that state, struggling to get her emotions under control, that her mother came out to the shed looking for her. Ginny took a hasty swipe at the tears on her cheeks, and turned back to the muggle typewriter she was sitting next to.

Her mother looked at her carefully for a few moments before saying in a gentle voice, 'I was going to call you in to eat, Ginny, but you look like you might need a bit of time to yourself.'

'I guess so, yeah.' Ginny still pretended a deep interest in the muggle typewriter, clunking the keys vigorously to hear them click.

Molly looked at her daughter with a shrewd eye.

'Do you want to talk, Ginny? It's just, you've been so down since Bill's wedding. It's not like you.'

Ginny twitched towards her mother for a few moments before she said, 'I don't know if I can, Mum. It's ... it's too hard to keep going if I stop and think about it.'

'I worry about the war all the time, too, you know. I worry about the three of them out there facing who knows what. My baby boy is out there and I have no idea how to contact him, another of my sons is in the thick of the Ministry and who knows what will happen to him. I know all about trying not to think about things.'

Ginny opened her mouth to say something, but her mother carried on speaking.

'But I also know that always going on, and never talking about it, will ruin you inside. I talk to your father all the time, but you don't talk, Ginny, and I worry that you will destroy yourself doing that. Just know that if you ever do want to talk about it, I'm here.'

Molly turned back towards the door.

'Mum.' The voice was so tiny that Molly almost missed it, but it stopped her in her tracks. 'Wait.'

Molly came back and sat down next to her daughter, who was fiddling with some sort of Muggle thing. They sat in silence while Ginny stared fixedly at the contraption in her hands as if willing it to do something. Finally, after twisting a few buttons, she gave a wan smile and held the object out to her mother with trembling hands.

'The words in this set me off, Mum. It's just four lines of a silly old Muggle song, but I heard it and I just understood finally what I was losing.'

She pressed the 'play' button, and as the words warbled out again she let her hair drop forward to cover her face. She wasn't quite ready for her mother to see the depth of emotion the song conjured in her. Molly listened solemnly, but didn't really understand what her daughter was trying to tell her. It was clear that Ginny was in the grip of a strong emotion, but why these words would set her off, Molly had no idea. Ginny reached out and turned the player off, and they sat in silence for a few moments. Then the meaning of the last word before Ginny had stopped the song penetrated Molly's brain. Jet. Black.

'It's Harry.'

Ginny's pale face went even whiter as she gave a tiny nod. Molly looked at her, comprehension dawning.

'He's your boyfriend.'

'No, not anymore.' The words were barely a whisper. 'But I can't turn my feelings off and make them go away, so I'm sick with worry.'

Molly slid closer to her on the hard bench and pulled her in to a strong hug. 'It is hard, dear. But you're fifteen ...'

'Please don't tell me I'm fifteen so I'll get over it.' Ginny's temper flared, and she pulled back and stared at her mother with a fierce look on her face. 'I know I _could_, but don't you see, I don't want to, and ... and I don't think he does either.' She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. 'Anyway, you were the one who told me he was interested. I thought you'd understand.'

Molly _didn't_ understand. Ginny had just got through telling her they weren't together anymore and yet here she was saying they didn't want to get over each other. Instead of trying to get to the bottom of it, though, she just kept holding onto Ginny. It had been a long time since she had been willing to open up to Molly, in fact she hadn't done since their last disastrous discussion about relationships, so it must be important.

'Mum?'

'Yes?'

'Will it get easier? The worry?'

'I don't know, Ginny. I know that's not what you want to hear, but it will all depend on what information we get. But, to be brutally honest, I don't think it will, no.'

'I didn't think so. I think about them constantly, and the fear never goes away no matter what I'm doing.'

'I know, dear. They are all either my children, or like children to me. I have nightmares all the time about what they are doing.'

The two sat in silence together as they thought about what was going on outside their small world, and the very personal interest they had in the events. Molly eventually heaved a big sigh, and said, 'Come on, love. I think we need to distract ourselves from all of this. And just remember that I understand and any time you need to cry or talk or anything, I am here for you.'

Ginny smiled at her mother, gave her a fierce hug and whispered, 'thank you. Um ... but, I don't want anyone else to know. Harry thinks that if the Death Eaters know we were involved they'll target me, and I don't want to risk it if I don't have to even if I think he's dense.'

Molly looked confused and Ginny was finally able to get a laugh out. 'Mum, the whole school knew we were together. It's not like he can really keep it secret, but I guess we can pretend it was nothing really, that it's all over and it meant n – nothing.'

Molly hugged her again, realising that her baby was growing up and was soon not going to need her mother at all. But right here, right now, her daughter was in pain and Molly could give her comfort the way she could when she was a small child. 'I promise, love. I promise I won't tell anyone.' Ginny didn't need an unbreakable vow to know Molly would keep her word.

The memory of that day stayed with Ginny, and whenever she felt overwhelmed by fear or wanted to break down and give in she remembered that she wasn't in this alone. That her mother knew was enough by itself to give her strength. She didn't have to keep her feelings to herself. She trusted her mother to tell no-one else, not even her father, but she was able to have the occasional discussion about it when the fear became unbearable. While she was at school, she knew her mother carried out the same vigil she did and it gave her a measure of peace during that interminable year.

_A/N: The song referred to in this chapter is Jet by Times Two._


	10. Aftermath

**Aftermath.**

It was a difficult time for Molly. The war had taken more out of her than she had expected. The wound left by the absence of Fred never seemed to want to scab over so Molly began to focus all her energy into trying to ensure the safety and eventual happiness of all her other children. George, well George was about as broken as she herself was and had stuffed himself in his own room, coming out only for meals, and was therefore about as safe as she could make him if not happy. Bill and Charlie were off about their own business again, and didn't seem to need her. Percy and Ron were holding up with help from some very supportive friends. But when she looked at her youngest child Molly could tell, even through her own grief, that something was not right, more not right than the scars left by the war.

She pulled herself together one day and followed Ginny out to the orchard. She saw her from a distance sitting with her head leaning lethargically against a tree trunk watching Ron and Harry playing quidditch. The look on her face didn't look like the grief she wore when she was thinking about Fred and Molly had a pretty shrewd idea what it was about.

'Ginny,' she began as she sat down with her. 'Ginny. How are you?'

Ginny turned to her mother, and gave her a wan smile. 'I feel OK, Mum.' The weary, yet knowing, look Molly gave her caused Ginny to blush, and add, 'I just ... I don't know. I feel so blah and I don't know why.' He eyes drifted over to where Harry and Ron were playing again and she sighed.

'What happened with Harry?' It was one of the many questions that had bubbled in Molly's brain as she watched her daughter's life after the war was over.

'Nothing,' Ginny sighed, turning her sad eyes on Molly again. 'It just didn't work out when it was all over. You were right, Mum. I was fifteen and deluding myself that it was going anywhere.'

'I saw the way he looked at you the day of the battle. I assumed you would get back together by now.'

'I did too,' Ginny said in a resigned voice. 'But he really doesn't want anything. He backs away from me and spends all his time with Ron and Hermione. I guess ... I guess he really meant it when he broke up with me and I was too silly to get it.'

Molly cringed at her tone. She lapsed into silence and when Hermione came outside and sat down with Ginny, Molly left them to it. She didn't stop thinking about her daughter and her dilemma, however. Over the next few days Molly made sure to pay attention to what Harry was doing and she came to the conclusion that he was as unhappy about the way things stood as Ginny was. What had happened between them was as foreign to him as it was to her. The way his eyes followed Ginny when she wasn't watching gave Molly hope, but she knew the two of them needed to talk, and the only way to make that happen seemed to be having one of 'those' talks with Ginny.

So, when she and Ginny were alone in the house one day, Molly slipped up to her bedroom. She knocked and, hearing a muffled 'come in,' went inside. It was obvious that her daughter had been crying, but the face that looked into hers held a note of belligerence as if daring her to say anything about it. Molly ignored Ginny's tough guy stance and sat down next to her.

'I think we need to talk, dear.'

Ginny huffed her cheeks out and turned her face away from her mother. 'If it's the Harry thing again, I don't want to talk.'

Molly sighed, but carried on anyway. 'I've been watching both of you, and neither of you seems happy.'

Ginny let out a disbelieving sound. 'Well, Mum. This thing called a war stole my brother away – did you expect I would be happy?' As her mother's face dropped at the barb, Ginny blushed. 'I'm sorry,' she said in a contrite voice. 'I didn't mean ...'

'I know,' Molly said, schooling her face again, 'and I know F-Fred has left a huge hole for you, too. But ... this is different than that. Of course we all feel that one, but you have another layer, a different layer – and so does Harry. Now, I want you to tell me why you think he's pushing you away.'

'I don't know. It was like ... I couldn't talk to him right away with ... with Fred and everything, and when I went to him later he said 'what is there to talk about?' and just left me.' The tears which had glistened on Ginny's cheeks when Molly entered the room threatened to spill over again.

Molly's brow creased as she tried to reconcile this idea with what she had seen of Harry's actions. A thought struck her. 'What did you say to him when you felt you couldn't talk right away?'

Ginny thought about it. 'I don't really remember. I was in a bad way what with Fred, and ... and seeing Harry dead like that. I think I said I couldn't cope with anything else and I needed time alone.' Her mouth dropped open in horror as she realised what that might have sounded like to Harry. 'Merlin, he thinks I told him I didn't want to be with him.'

'I think that's exactly what he thought you said.'

The light that had stolen over Ginny when she realised the problem, dimmed. 'But then why did he turn away when I tried to talk to him? I've tried over and over again and he always makes some excuse and goes away with Ron or Hermione.'

'I think he's hurting, love, and hurt people don't act rationally.' Molly patted Ginny's leg reassuringly, but Ginny remained unconvinced. 'If I try again he's just going to do the same thing – cut and run. It feels like he's moved on.'

Her mother looked at her carefully, and said, 'I think you need to keep at it. At the moment you've given up. I haven't seen you initiate one conversation with him in the past five days. If you want this, then you have to fight for it.'

'But what if he rejects me again? I feel like I did all those years ago when I didn't want to ... to ... put myself out there with Harry -- that it will hurt too much if he rejects me again.'

'Do you remember what I told you that time, Ginny?' Molly's voice was understanding, but insistent.

'You said that Harry was interested and I needed to get over myself and look at my feelings again – that I should take a chance.'

'I'm saying the same thing again. I know it's scary when he's distant like this, but I think now you know why and you have been distant with him too. It's up to you to put things right.'

Letting out the breath she had unconsciously been holding, Ginny steeled her shoulders. 'What the hell. It can't really hurt much more than it does now. Thanks, Mum. I guess after last time I should listen to you – after all you were right that time and maybe the same spell _can_ hit twice.'

Ginny's smile was almost the mischievous one Molly remembered from before the war, and she gave her mother a hug. Molly squeezed back and left the room, feeling happier than she had in many a long week.

What Ginny didn't know was that Molly cornered Harry as soon as he got back home and had a similar talk with him. She left him in a far more receptive mood than he had been when Ginny had approached him before, and it was a delighted Molly who looked out the kitchen window that evening and saw Ginny and Harry in an earnest conversation out by the orchard. She watched as Ginny took his hand and twined her fingers in his, then led him further from the house and out of sight. Molly sighed thankfully. It might take some time to mend those bridges, but at least Ginny had taken the first step. Everything else would come with time.


	11. Quidditch Star

**10. Quidditch Star**

She learned about it from the papers of all things. There it was in black and white: _Potter's Girlfriend Joins Holyhead Harpies._ Suppressing her irritation that Ginny was once again relegated to 'girlfriend' status rather than being her own person, Molly focussed on the article. Her baby was growing up, and had chosen what seemed to Molly to be a very dangerous career. Not as dangerous as Harry's, she'd grant her that, but still one that often resulted in major injuries to the players. Molly wondered sadly why Ginny had chosen not to tell her this herself, and wondered if in the time after the war they had lost that sense of camaraderie they had gained earlier.

'Hello! Mum! Are you in here?' Ginny's cheerful voice reverberated through the house, and pulled Molly from her sour musings.

'I'm in here, dear.'

Molly stood up and began bustling with dishes in the warm kitchen. Ginny came round the door and smothered her in a huge hug.

'I feel like I haven't seen you in ages, Mum. How long has it been? A month? Maybe two?'

Reluctantly Molly chuckled. Ginny always teased her this way when she visited. 'A week, dear. At most.'

'It just seems like longer when I'm away from your cooking.' Ginny looked at her mother with an expectant look on her face and Molly laughed, knowing the drill here, too.

'Here you go, dear. Fresh out of the oven, some treacle tart.'

'Oh, bless you Mum! Harry's favourite. He's going to be over the moon when he gets here. I really should learn to make this,' she said around a mouthful of the warm tart.

'I seem to recall you saying you didn't want to learn to cook or do domestic chores,' Molly teased her with a smile.

'I grew up and realised that, unless I'm made of money, I need to know how to cook or I'll starve. That's not a girl thing, that's a survival thing.'

'Your new career should be more than enough to pay for a cook, dear.'

Ginny's spoon clattered to the table and she looked at her mother in shock. 'How do you know about it? It was meant to be a surprise.'

Molly proffered the newspaper with the glaring headline, and Ginny rolled her eyes.

'I should have known. Nothing ever escapes the eyes of those idiots. I'm sorry, Mum. I wanted to tell you myself. In fact, that's why I was here. I was just waiting for Harry.'

There was silence in the kitchen as Molly fussed around and set another place at the table. Ginny picked up her spoon again and carried on eating the tart, but there was a new tension between the women that bothered her.

'I'm worried about it, Ginny. Worried that you will be hurt, too.'

Ginny smiled gently at her mother. 'I know, and I understand.' Her eyes sparkled as she thought about her new career, making Molly smile despite her worry. 'But, Mum, it's all I've ever wanted to do. I have my dream in my hand; isn't that a good thing?'

'Yes, it is dear. And I'll never stop you ...'

'As if you could,' Ginny's voice was warm and cheeky.

Molly smiled again, a little uncomfortable at the reminder that Ginny was no longer her responsibility.

'But after Fred ... I worry so much. I thought before it happened that losing a child would be a terrible thing.' She took a deep, shuddering breath and looked away from Ginny, into some distance only she could see. 'I was wrong. It's more than terrible ... it rips the soul out of you, and now that I know what it's like ...' Molly looked over at Ginny again, her fear written all over her face. 'I worry so much _more_ about the rest of you.'

There was a suspicious crack in Molly's voice, and Ginny got up and engulfed her mother in her arms. She concentrated on pouring all her love into her mother, letting her know without words that she understood.

'Mum, I know, better than most, what it's like to worry about someone to the point of losing yourself. But I couldn't let it stop Harry, or me, from going after our dreams.'

Molly gave her a watery smile. 'I know. I know I'm being silly, dear. This whole thing has been dreadful for all of us.' She took a deep breath and began fiddling with some dishes in the sink. 'You're right, Ginny. Merlin knows that Harry has been through his share and I know you've worried about him.'

They shared a smile, remembering Ginny's stress during the war and Molly's comforting shoulder. Ginny sat down at the table again, and Molly bustled some more, trying to cover up some of her discomfort with movement.

'It was hard, Mum, but I had to learn to let my worry about him go.' She smirked at her mother, knowing that she would hear the suggestion in the comment and wouldn't be able to resist the unspoken taunt. Ginny wasn't disappointed.

'I wish it was that easy, Ginny, letting go of my fear for you...'

'You think it was easy, Mum? Letting go of that worry was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Especially after ... after Hagrid carried him out of that forest. It took a conscious effort to push it away.'

Her mother finally sat down at the table across from her, holding a cup of tea in her hand and pushing another across to Ginny. She took a sip as she contemplated what to say next. Finally, she spoke.

'You're right. I don't have a monopoly on feeling like this. But you're young, and resilient ... I feel so old. I don't know if I'm strong enough to – to live through the worry again. It about killed me once, I don't know if I can do it again.'

'Mum, you're a strong witch, a strong person. And you have to just go with it, I think.' She thought for a few moments about how to get her point across and finally said, 'That's what I learnt ... you just have to roll with life. No matter what your age, you gotta live your life not hide from it. Anyway, I'm playing quidditch and you can't change that.'

The grin that she directed at her mother was impish, and her mother let out the throaty laugh that Ginny remembered from when she was a tiny child. The sound swept her back to all the conversations she'd had with her mother in this very room.

'I know I'm never going to move you when you get that stubborn look on your face.'

'Too right! I worked hard for this one, and I'm not giving it up for anyone, not even you, Mum. Even though I love you to bits.'

Molly smiled at her, a little reassured by Ginny's passion for what she was doing. Ginny gave her a cheeky look and took a sip of her tea just as Harry walked into the kitchen. As always, Molly watched as the pair immersed themselves in each other. Ginny's eyes flicked right to him, and the cheeky look changed as her whole face lit up. Harry walked to her and put his hand on her shoulder as he dropped a kiss onto her hair. He leaned down and whispered something to her which made her giggle, and she reached up and gave his hand a squeeze before he dropped it and sat down. The look they had shared still lingered in the air.

It usually amused Molly that every time the two of them were together in one place, they had a way of ignoring everyone and everything else for a few moments as they greeted each other. Now, she felt envious. This was obviously one of the ways they had come up with to counter the darkness, and it worked. They were so clearly in love and showed it in everything they did. Watching them, Molly knew Ginny was right. Life was for living, not for killing yourself with fear. She wondered when it had happened that Ginny had become her comfort and not the other way around, but shrugged it off as she watched Harry start appreciatively on her treacle tart. Her daughter was a woman now, with a woman's choices ahead of her. It was time Molly let go of the tiny child she had held and embraced her new relationship with the woman before her.


	12. Marriage

**11. Marriage**

Ginny was standing in front of her mirror listening to it enumerate her good points with a kind of baffled acceptance. Normally, it would point out the kink in her hair or the smudge of dirt on her cheek, but today, her wedding day, it was uncharacteristically full of praise. Ginny was a little taken-aback by the mirror's new attitude. This new approval symbolised a little too clearly that this was the end of her childhood. It felt like the mirror was moving on and Ginny was irrationally saddened by it.

'Ginny? Are you ready, dear?' Molly, knocked softly on the door as she called to her daughter.

'Come in, Mum. I'm almost done.'

Molly's eyes looked suspiciously bright as she smiled at her daughter in the mirror. She came in and stood behind Ginny. 'You look so grown up, Ginny. What is it about wedding robes that makes a girl look so much older?'

Ginny turned and hugged her mother tight to her. This was her last night in this house, her last night with her mother, and she felt suddenly protective of her.

'I don't think it's the robes, Mum. I think it's that whole wedding thing.' She smiled mischievously at her mother. 'Getting married makes you seem so much older. And it's not just girls. Remember the waterworks you turned on when Bill married?'

Molly gave a watery smile as she pulled back from Ginny. 'Oh don't remind me. But that was during the war and everything was uncertain, and those other three were leaving and I knew it was coming ... and oh, Ginny, you're my last baby and what will we ever do without you?' With tears threatening again, Molly began fussing with Ginny's clothes to give her trembling hands something to do.

'Well, there's Ron still slouching around being a leech and you know he's going to be ages before he finally gets up the nerve to marry Hermione. Plus, you already have grandchildren to supply all your nurturing needs after we leave home. You'll be fine.' Ginny patted her mother's arm, and the mock-healer's tone she adopted made both women dissolve in stitches.

Ginny turned back to the mirror and her expression turned serious. 'It does feel weird, though Mum. This won't be my home anymore, in any sense of the word.'

'You moved out years ago Ginny.'

'I know. But ... it felt like home still because this was my family. I mean it still is, but I'll be starting a new one now and that somehow changes everything.'

'Do you want to know what it was like when I married your father?'

'Of course.' Ginny's face lit up as she sank onto her bed and looked at her mother expectantly. Molly sat down beside her and took her hand.

'I was terrified,' she began and Ginny snorted. 'Oh, I know it seems unlikely. But I was. We'd been sweethearts forever it seemed but taking that leap was so daunting. I sat in my room with my own mother and I was shaking.' She squeezed Ginny's hand. 'So you're already doing better than I am,' she smiled.

'I don't think there's anything to shake about exactly. It's just a little ... sad, is all.'

'I know. And I knew there was nothing to shake about either, but I couldn't help it. It wasn't until I got to the doorway to our garden and saw your father standing waiting for me that I relaxed and stopped the shakes. He looked so calm.' Molly smiled reminiscently.

Ginny giggled. 'I imagine dad was calm. Nothing seems to shake him up except for Muggle artefacts, so as long as you had none of those lying around I'm sure he was great.'

Molly chuckled. 'Yes, even then I already knew to keep him away from any gadgets.'

'Somehow I doubt that Harry is calm.' Ginny frowned a little as she thought about her fiancé waiting for her. 'I don't think being fashionably late would be a good idea today.'

'No, I don't think so. I never thought it was a good idea anyway. What makes girls think that making their future partner anxious is an auspicious start to a marriage?'

'I don't know. But I wouldn't do that to Harry, so I guess we should go find Dad soon.'

Molly checked the time, and shook her head. 'Not yet love. I doubt Harry is even ready yet, you're well ahead of yourself.'

'I guess I _am_ a bit anxious Mum. I want to do this and it's all I've ever wanted, but it is kind of daunting even though it's more of a formality than anything else.'

Molly gathered her into another bone crushing hug. 'I know dear. It's a rite of passage and it's one of those moments that no matter how ready you are for it will always be daunting. Do you remember how anxious you were about going to school? You were so ready for it, and so desperate to get to Hogwarts and yet it scared you half to death.' Molly chuckled a little. 'Though I think a lot of that desperation was so you could see a certain green-eyed person.'

Ginny snorted again, and said, 'don't remind me. I was languishing for him for years. It mortifies me to think of it now. What a silly little thing I was.'

'No! You were cute, and I'm sure Harry thought so too.'

'I'm sure he didn't,' Ginny giggled. 'He had quite the fan club and we were all so little and annoying.'

'Well, maybe not the others, but I know I found your crush adorably cute. I'm sure looking back on it now so does he.'

Ginny's giggles subsided as she thought about those days. Far too many of the people she had been close to back then were now missing from her life. Even her fellow members of the Harry Potter fan club.

'It's so weird to think that Colin and Dobby ... that they won't be here for this. I almost feel disloyal to them.'

'Don't be silly, dear. You know Harry would never marry either of them.' Molly's smirk was infectious and Ginny dissolved into giggles.

'Can't you just see Dobby in a lovely set of robes heading down the aisle? The look on Harry's face would be priceless.'

Her mother wiped tears from her eyes and nodded with a little hiccough. Ginny looked more relaxed and the slightly melancholic tone had disappeared from her voice. The two women remained locked in an endless embrace, however, thinking back on all the conversations they'd shared til this point. For both of them, this seemed like a final moment in that journey. Ginny may still come to her mother in the future, but it wouldn't be as a child to her mother, but as two women to each other. Molly had a taste of it when Ginny announced her new job in quidditch and while she welcomed the new relationship she felt the loss of the old. The thoughts she conjured, however, were happy ones this time. The shared joke had awoken Molly's sense of humour and she remembered the funny times with far more clarity than the maudlin ones.

She finally stood up and held out her arms to Ginny. 'Come on then, let me look at you. We'd best be sure that you're all tidy and we haven't crushed you too much with this hugging and crying.'

Ginny stood up and once again Molly was struck with how grown up she looked. For a few moments while she told the tale of her own wedding, Ginny had looked and felt like her little girl again, but now her womanhood returned clearly. She did a twirl and it was obvious that no lasting damage had been done to her clothes or her hair, so Molly nodded and pronounced her ready to go. Arthur peeked around the door and slid into the room.

'I think it's time, Ginny. We'd best be going downstairs.'

Ginny smiled at him, gave her mother one last hug and took her father's arm. Molly preceded them out the door and they met Hermione on the landing. As they descended the stairs, Ginny thought her mother was right about one thing. Seeing Harry waiting for her somehow made all the nerves and the melancholy disappear. His face was radiant as he locked eyes with her. In that moment, her father, her mother all the other people around them, all became nothing. All her attention was on this man she was about to marry, and suddenly the sadness of leaving her childhood behind her was forgotten in the anticipation of the glorious future before her.


	13. Pregnancy

**Pregnancy.**

Years later, Ginny wondered what she had got herself into. She was sick all the time, and her bosses at the Harpies were beginning to comment on her lacklustre performance. It wasn't her fault, Ginny thought grumpily, that she felt nauseous at every drop of the broom or sudden turn in midair. Well, if she was being fair, it _was_ her fault – hers and Harry's. But that was beside the point. The point was she was re-evaluating her life and quidditch, no matter how much she loved it, was no longer her primary focus. She roused herself as she heard a cheerful knock on the door, and smiled at her mother as she entered the small kitchen of the house she and Harry lived in.

'Ginny, how are you doing?'

'I'm great, Mum. How are you?'

Her mother ignored this. 'You're in all the papers again, did you know?'

'Really? What have they made up this time?'

'Oh, something about you losing your edge.' Ginny rolled her eyes. This sort of comment was nothing new, but her mother carried on, 'and there are rumours you're giving up quidditch. Is that true?'

Ginny flushed bright red and mumbled something incoherent. Molly's eyes widened.

'It is true! Why, Ginny? This was your dream. What's happened?' She began bustling around the kitchen, which usually annoyed Ginny as if Molly was criticising her housekeeping, but today made her feel cherished by her mother again.

'I don't know, Mum,' Ginny sighed. 'I just don't have the same passion for it anymore. It feels different somehow.'

Molly sat down at the table next to Ginny, holding a cup of tea and passing a fresh cup to Ginny. 'Well, part of me isn't sorry. I was always worried out of my mind when you were playing against some of those brutal teams. Ron's Cannon's make me shudder when I watch the way they mark you.'

Ginny sniggered at the memories. 'Well, I was never worried, Mum. They aren't good enough to catch me most of the time.'

'But I remember the excitement in your voice and the sheer exuberance you had when you began playing, and I do wonder what happened to that girl, even if some of her exploits scared me to death.'

'I grew up, Mum. I've just been thinking, and quidditch would never last forever anyway. It's a young person's sport, and I'm ...'

'Still young!' Molly bristled as she heard her youngest child suggest that she was getting old at the age of twenty three.

'I know, Mum,' Ginny laughed. 'But I can't pretend I have more than another four years' quidditch in me at most. And if I'm not into it anymore, it's time to give up – it's not fair to me or the rest of the girls if I keep on while not able to give them one hundred percent.'

'But what will you do?'

'It's OK, Mum. I already have another offer – it's the reason why I began thinking about leaving.'

Molly, let out her breath in an irritated huff. 'For Merlin's sake, Ginny, why didn't you just say so rather than let me fret?'

'Well, you seemed to be enjoying the worry so I didn't want to interfere.' Ginny's voice was warm and she squeezed her mother's hand. 'I'm thinking of getting in on the other side of the action.'

Her mother looked at her quizzically, and asked what she meant.

'The _Prophet_ has asked me to become their sports reporter. It's perfect. I get to be around all my old haunts, and write about quidditch which I do still love, while not having to risk my neck on a broom.' She grinned cheekily at her mother. 'Besides, if I'm working for them, they'll have to quit with the juicy gossip about me and Harry.'

Molly was now genuinely puzzled. 'Ginny, why are you worried about risking your neck? I mean, I know it's not to spare my poor old heart, and I know Harry is just as reckless as you so it's not about him either ...'

'You can't tell, Mum? I knew Parvati must be lying when she said it makes you glow.' She glanced sideways with a smirk on her face, and watched as her mother's eyes widened, and she stammered out, 'Are you ... are you saying you're having a baby?'

Ginny nodded, a smile breaking onto her face as she saw the joy in Molly's eyes.

'Oh, my word! Oh, how wonderful. A baby! Oh, Ginny ...' in between the exclamations Molly managed to get her arms around Ginny until Ginny squeaked out, 'Mum, you're squashing me,' and she dropped her arms but carried on babbling at an incredible rate. 'Oh, I must tell your father at once; he'll be so pleased. What does Harry think? How far along are you? Have you thought about the birth? I had all of you right in my bedroom, it was so comfortable ... you should think about it. There's nowhere like home.'

'Mum, you're babbling. It's too soon to think about any of that; I only just found out myself. Of course Harry is over the moon – it's what he's always wanted, a family of his own.

Molly frowned as she listened to Ginny. 'But he already has a family, we're his family.'

Ginny sniggered. 'I know that, Mum, and so does he. But you have to admit, there's something about a baby ... I mean, I'm going to be a mother myself. It's weird. It's not something I ever seriously connected with me, you know? It was always your job to be the mother.'

Molly laughed. 'It's a wonderful job, Ginny, but I won't deny that the first inkling you get that you're going to be a mother is terrifying.'

'How will I cope with a baby? I – I mean I'm thrilled, of course I am. This is something we've worked towards, Harry and I, ever since we got married ...'

'That's more information than I need, thank you dear.'

Ginny snorted. 'You know what I mean. This was always in the plan, maybe not this soon but always the thought was out there. You know he'd never say it aloud, but Harry just always wanted kids, a life ... family, blood family of his own. But ...'

'But now that it's happened you're scared.' Molly nodded her understanding. 'It's understandable; this is a big change for you. But the one thing to remember is that you have a lot of people around you, and in Harry you have about the most dedicated family man I've ever come across, except maybe your father.' She smiled as she thought of him.

Ginny smiled at her, nodding. Then she shrieked, 'I'm having a baby!' and threw her arms around her mother who laughed and hugged her back. 'And I'm going to take up a great new job! How can life get any better than this?'

'Oh, sweetheart. As soon as you hold that baby you'll know how much better life can get.'

Seven months later, Molly's words came flooding back to Ginny as she watched Harry cradling his newborn son, whispering, 'Hello James.' In this man, she knew, she had the most committed father she could wish for her child. With his help, and the depth of knowledge that her mother and father had, not to mention growing up with Fred and George, there was nothing wee James could throw at Ginny that she couldn't handle.

James let out a squawk of protest at being alive, and Ginny watched as Harry jiggled the tiny child, comforting him. All the practise he'd had with Teddy Lupin as a baby had clearly paid off, and even though James was smaller and more fragile than Teddy had ever been when Harry knew him, he had all the confidence of someone who has been there before and knew what to do. Ginny smiled at her boys and drifted off to sleep in her own bed for the first time as a mother, confident in the knowledge that Harry was there and that her mother was just a floo call away.


	14. Family

**Family.**

'I don't know how you did it, Mum. If I'd known what James was going to be like as a toddler I'd never have had Albus so soon. I swear that boy could have given Fred and George a run for their money.' Holding a sleeping baby, Ginny sat herself down in the lounge at the Burrow as she complained as her mother watched her with a fond smile.

'He is a very boisterous boy,' Molly said cheerfully.

'Boisterous? That's a much tamer word than I would use. He never stops moving, never, and I can't take my eyes off Albus for a second in case James plays with him ...'

Molly smiled at her daughter and gently extricated the tiny bundle from her arms. 'Where is James today?'

'I needed time out, so Harry's taken him over to Ron's place. He said he can destroy all their furniture for once.' Ginny let out a giggle at the idea.

'Ginny!' Her mother was scandalised. 'You don't take your kids to other people's houses to wreak havoc – you should be teaching him to be more responsible, not less.'

Ginny's face took on a mutinous cast and she glared at her mother, reminding her again just how stubborn and strong willed her youngest child had always been. 'And you never let the hurricane twins loose anywhere other than here? No-one else was ever subjected to their, what was it, Boisterousness?'

Molly had the grace to blush, and turned her attention to the newest bundle in the family. 'Well, I guess you don't have long before you won't be able to take James over there to be as exuberant as he likes. When is Hermione due?'

'Three weeks. It's so weird to think that Albus and their little one will be the same age and the same year at school. It makes me wonder what sort of adventures they will get up to at school.'

Molly shuddered. 'Oh, I don't want to think about it. But I don't think you have to worry about it with this one. He is the sweetest, most placid baby I have met. And with Hermione as a mother, do you think his age mate will have even the remotest chance to be anything but a swot?'

Ginny giggled. 'Oh, I don't know Mum. There's got to be some Ron in there somewhere, and you know we Weasleys have a talent for trouble, especially if there's a Potter involved.'

Albus began a snuffling cry as he woke from his nap, and Ginny immediately took on the role of mother and retrieved him from Molly's reluctant arms. She watched as her daughter expertly began feeding the tiny child, and marvelled at the knowledge that this woman had once been a tiny creature as dependant on her as Albus now was on Ginny. She had a kind of blurred double vision as she took in the scene and remembered Ginny as the small child. It seemed wrong, silly somehow, that her baby was now a grown woman with two children of her own.

However, Ginny's need for help and support had returned with her motherhood. When she got married it had felt like Molly was losing her youngest child forever, but now that Ginny faced this new trial, she had returned to Molly, desperate for her wisdom. As if on cue, she spoke up.

'Mum? What do you do when the baby needs your attention but the older one wants you too? I mean ... Albus is so tiny, so dependant and yet I don't want James to think we don't still love and cherish him, too.' She smiled with a faraway look on her face. 'Hellion though he is, he's still my baby and I want him to feel loved too.'

Molly looked at her while she tried to remember what she and Arthur had done.

'From misty memory, dear, you just have to be sure to do things with him too.' She smirked at her daughter. 'That shouldn't be hard. That boy is desperate to get on a broom and I know you miss it.'

Ginny's face lit up with the idea of being on a broom with her son. 'Oh, that would be so much fun, and maybe we could get him his own mini broom, you know like the ones I saw at the world cup all that time ago.'

As Ginny began enthusiastically working out what she would do to have some one-on-one time with James, Harry arrived with the small boy in tow.

'We were on our way home,' he said as he stepped out of the flames in the fire place, 'but little firebolt here wanted to come see his grandma, and who am I to refuse him?'

Ginny laughed out loud, a little of the frazzled look she had worn when she arrived dissipating with the sight of Harry. 'You mean you were sneaking a visit to try and get some of Mum's cooking.' Shrugging noncommittally but grinning, Harry turned to watch his son.

James had run straight over to his grandmother on legs that were still slightly wobbly and still made him list a little to the left as he moved. He almost missed her outstretched arms and fell on his face, but used to this from years of experience, Molly had just tilted her body to the right and caught him as he flew past. His infectious giggles rang out and Albus pulled his head away from what he was doing and smiled at his brother.

'Did you see that, Harry? Mum? He smiled! He's only four weeks old and he actually smiled then – oh, he's going to love his brother.'

James pulled himself expertly out of Molly's grip and came over to investigate this new phenomenon. With a look of bewildered awe on his face, he said, 'Bubba 'mile me?'

Molly laughed and said, 'Yes James, he smiled at you. You know, since you're the big boy it's up to you to watch out for your baby brother ...'

Ginny giggled as she saw the look on James's face. 'Don't worry love, you can still have fun and you have a whole lot of good people around to help you out.' She cast a look at her mother, and smiled, letting her know she remembered that long ago talk where Molly reminded her that they had all the support they needed. Molly smiled back, sharing in the moment with undisguised joy.

Molly turned to Harry and asked, 'How is Hermione doing, Harry? Ready to explode yet?'

'Well, she has two bags ready to go to St Mungos in case she loses one, and she has a list on a two-foot-long piece of parchment of how she wants the whole deal to go down. I think she's about ready.'

Ginny tried to stifle the giggles she could feel welling up in her, but she was unsuccessful. 'I think that baby wouldn't dare not come according to her plan and schedule. But I would laugh if she ended up having it at home in her bed after all her big plans for hospital intervention and calming draughts.'

'Don't be mean, Ginny. You know yourself that it's hard work and you do whatever you need to get you through.' Her mother was taking on that familiar old lioness look and Ginny backed down immediately. There were some times when it was still wisest to remember that Molly was her mother and no matter how grown up she felt, Ginny could still be cowed in the right circumstances. She glared at Harry who was smirking at her. He, at least, had more sense than to make fun of anything to do with babies around Molly, and he reminded her of that fact with a wink.

'Okay, little fella, I think it's time we left these lovely ladies in peace and let poor Albus finish his lunch ... off we go ...' and he rounded up James, wrestled him into the fireplace and they flooed away.

Albus snuffled a little as he settled back to feeding, and Ginny smiled up at her mother. 'You know, Mum, as hard a job as this is I wouldn't exchange it for anything. Seeing this one smiling at his brother makes me realise, no matter what may come, we made the right decision to add to our family.' Molly nodded and shuffled off to the kitchen to make some tea, leaving the young mother with her son for some much-needed time alone together. Despite the jarring feeling that Ginny surely couldn't be old enough to be the mother of two young children, Molly felt a sense of pride and achievement that she had reared this girl and helped her develop enough so that she felt able to stretch her wings when she needed to and return to the fold when she needed that. All she could wish for now was for Ginny and her family to stay strong and unified, and after all they had been through, Molly was sure they had all the right ingredients for that.


	15. Epilogue: Lily

**Epilogue: Lily.**

Ginny was exhausted. You'd think after doing this twice already her body would be used to it, but Ginny found herself as tired this time as she had been with both her boys. Wishing there was some spell to make getting a baby out any bloody easier than this, she sank back in relief as the nurse wrapped a small bundle in a pink blanket and handed her to her mother.

Ginny peered down at the tiny girl and smiled at her.

'Lily, don't you think? Harry?' She looked up at her husband who was staring down at the tiny bundle with rapt astonishment on his face.

'Harry?' she repeated louder, stopping short of snapping her fingers under his nose only because she felt too tired to get her arm up that high.

'Oh? Yes, Lily.' His face softened even more and Ginny lay back on the pillows with a contented smile on her face. She passed Lily over to her father who immediately wandered over to the window with her, murmuring small endearments no-one else was to hear.

'So, you're the mother of a little girl now, Ginny.' Her mother smiled at her. 'It's a different battle, love, but so worth it in the end.'

Ginny squeezed her mother's hand, brushed damp hair off her forehead with the other and said, 'you found me a battle, Mum? You amaze me. I was so sweet and pliable as a child.'

She burst into giggles as she said it, unable to keep her face straight and Molly laughed right along with her. 'You'll see, love. You'll see. Baby girls are like all babies. They want to be cuddled and nursed and loved, but girls ... when they grow up they live different lives to boys, no matter how many brothers they may have. All babies are different to each other, but girls are a different kind of different.'

'Mum, you know I appreciate everything you've done for me, right? Every conversation we've had, even the ones that involved me yelling.' The two women smiled at each other in mutual sympathetic memory.

'I know sweetheart, you didn't have to say.' Molly leaned over and kissed Ginny's cheek. 'But it's nice to hear. Sometimes I wondered if I had any chance of helping you become the woman you were meant to be. But I look at you now, and I know between us we did alright.'

'I think you did brilliantly,' Harry said softly from the window, still holding the precious bundle, but all his attention focused on Ginny. The smile Ginny directed at him was so radiant she almost forgot she was tired. He smiled back and the two parents stayed locked in the moment until the small bodies of their sons wriggled around the door and into the room.

Molly left them to it, allowing the family to discover their new member together and smiling to herself as she left the room. She was pretty sure in a few years Ginny would be back for more advice, just as Molly had gone to other experienced women for advice on raising her girl.


End file.
